


Goodbye, Love

by fansofsuchandsuch



Category: Rent (2005), Rent - Larson
Genre: #Sad, #angst, M/M, goodbyelove
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 14:06:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18500539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fansofsuchandsuch/pseuds/fansofsuchandsuch
Summary: The RENT song, but in story form from Mark's POV.





	Goodbye, Love

**Author's Note:**

> Not OOUIL related at all, but RENT is also amazing so, have this. Literally this fic is the sole reason I changed my name to fansofsuchandsuch, and if you want me to write something on another fandom just comment below or else I'll be left to my own devices which isn't good for anybody involved. Enjoy. -S

Mark's POV.

Camera pans up and the black fades into the scene. Roger is standing there, furious red in his eyes highlighted by the dim light of the street lamp behind him, furious red in his eyes directed at _me_. 

“How could you say that?! I let her go?! Are you fucking serious Mark?” He yells, pushing me away from him. I haven’t ever seen him this upset before. Even when he was diagnosed and April died, it was like I was the only person allowed to see the view of his real feelings, there was no wall between us. I can practically see him building that now as Mimi walks away. Usually I just let him take out his anger; I listen to the 2-AM guitar sessions where he basically just strums the guitar angrily for an hour, I listen to the rants, and I tell him he’s right all the time, except for now. Not when Mimi walks away and Collins is standing there crying over Angel and not when Maureen and Joanne are fighting and everyone’s crying and I can’t hold it in anymore.

“You may think you’re right, but you’re not, Roger,” I say, “not about this. You were the one who wouldn’t open up, you were the one who just let her walk away over the slightest bit of jealousy over Ben for fuck’s sake-”

“Fuck off.” Roger interrupts, but I continue.

“Maybe now when she’s about to leave you’ll finally fucking realize you need her! She needs you! And it’s okay to need people!” I yell, the camera shaking in my cold hands. I huff and put it away in my bag before continuing. Roger shakes his head and scoffs.

“I don’t need people, look what happens when you’re with people! When someone leaves, and they always leave, they leave a mess of people behind. Angel had people and now we’re all broken! Now she’s dead! And her death is in vain: it won’t stop people from leaving, it won’t stop people from dying, nothing will change because of it! We hate each other now, can barely stand looking at each other because of Angel. You think this is good? You think this is what ‘Roger needs?’ Camera pan up into the real world for a fucking second, Mark, and look at how things actually are for a change.” He spits, and it feels like every word, every single syllable is cutting into me with a knife. They’re sharp words, carefully chosen to cause the most pain, and they succeeded. I can feel my whole body begin to shake, the sobs threatening to come out, but I hold them down for a few minutes more.

“You think she died in vain?! You think her dead hasn’t changed anything?! Tell me that after seeing Collins throw up from crying so hard. Tell me that after Maureen sees another drag queen that reminds her of Angel which makes her sob for hours. Tell me that after Mimi leaves because she thinks she won’t find love, the love that Angel had and gave. You’re so fucking stuck on your own cynic view of the world that you don’t realize what people have! She didn’t die in vain, she died with the man she loved! She lived her life to the fullest, and you can too! There’s shit to live for, Roger! There’s me and Mimi, you have us! You have me.” The end turns into a plea, my hand rests on his arm begging to remember that he has me, he always has. I beg him to recall the fun times we had before all this, remember the promise I made to him years ago that I’ve fulfilled since then, that I’d never leave him. Remember that happiness is real even in this shit of a life, but instead Roger pulls away again and glares.

“I have things. I have a car and AIDS, and sorry if my outlook isn’t cheery enough for you, Mark, but those two things are all I fucking have right now. They’re all I know. I don’t have Mimi, Ben has her, and I don’t have you, your camera does. You’re so invested in your work that you can’t realize when I’m lying, when I haven’t eaten. What do you see, Mark?” Roger advances with every word. “Do you just see someone that can get you famous in me? Do you just see a photo opportunity? Is that why you befriended me all those years ago, because I can play guitar and seemed interesting, and what, was me getting AIDS just creative inspiration for you?!” 

I can only see red when the words fall out of his mouth, and I push him away from me. I push and push and push until eventually I hit. I only hit once, punching him in the cheek which makes him stumble and Collins grab me to hold me back. A small smirk appears for a split second before he puts the stone face back on.

“You’ve _always_ had me, asshole!” I yell, so loud that people have begun to watch us on the street. I yell so loud my voice strains and tears prick my eyes. “You have had me from the moment we met and don’t pretend like it’s otherwise. Don’t accuse me of not knowing you! Who reminds you to take your AZT, who forced it down your fucking throat when you would refuse-” my voice cracks and I barely recognize myself now, it’s like I’m watching the scene play out without being able to contribute to it, “who helped you pay for the guitar you love so much to be repaired after a terrible night? Who stayed up with you while you puked your guts out when you were detoxing? Don’t fucking accuse me of not knowing my best friend, and don’t fucking accuse me of just using you to get famous. Don’t pretend like I don’t care about you more than myself. I know it fucking sucks Roger, but it’s not just your life you’re fucking with here. _It’s not just you_.” He stares at me, standing only a foot away. Our heavy breaths fill the cold air and nobody speaks for a moment. He cups his cheek before dropping his arms down at his sides.

“ **I’m** the one to die,” he laughs, coldly, “you don’t get to hit me and tell me how much it sucks because you don’t know the half of it. I’m the one who has to fucking die.” I bite my lip and stare at him, his blue eyes keeping a locked gaze on mine. I don’t see any more anger, I don’t see hatred, I see sadness. I see the tears glimmering as the words sink in, that he will die like Angel, like Mimi will eventually, and there’s no stopping that.

“And I’m the one who has to keep living when you all die. I’m the one who has to bury all my friends. I’m the one who has to figure out a way to keep going when you leave.” He turns away from me and scoffs as I continue. “Is that why you’re leaving, so you don’t have to see everyone go first, so you can detach and be the first to go? Is Roger jealous of Ben or is he just scared? Mimi looked thin, did you see?”

“Of course I saw.” Roger mumbles, putting his head in his hands and shaking his head. Any other time I would probably console him, but it feels like there’s a million miles between us now.

“Mimi’s running out of time and you’re running out the door.” I state. “You have to realize that. She’s dying and you’re leaving, you’re leaving her and me alone. That’s the choice you’re gonna make? Just throwing us all away?” I wish the credits would roll on this movie already. I wish that he would shake his head and apologize and admit he didn’t actually sell his guitar for a car. I wish he would stay. I could pull out the camera and film him smiling again, film him making up with Mimi, film him hugging me, film him staying, but in true Roger fashion, he turns away.

“ _Enough_.” He says, his voice soft and full of regret and pain. “Please, enough. I have to go.” It feels tense, the air is thick and his words echo throughout my head, throughout the scene that’s being filmed somewhere I’m sure.

“Then go.” I say, and I don’t have to say the rest:  _ but please come back _ . He knows, the way he looks at me tells me he knows. Before walking off, before walking down the steps and to his car that will take him across the country, far away from me, he turns and pulls me into a hug. His arms squeeze around me tighter than ever before, and throwing my arms around him in return is a simple reflex now. I almost let go, I almost cry, but Roger pulls away before I can, the warmth and inspiration leaving from me as he does.

“I’ll call.” He promises, and with that he turns and leaves. I don’t attempt to stop him or call out after him. My heart shatters with every footstep he takes, the fears and anxieties about him triple once I hear the heavy door open downstairs. Camera pan down to Mark who’s standing with his heart in his hands and the sobs finally taking over him in the cold apartment building. Fade to black. _Fin_.


End file.
